


Rhythm

by jucee



Category: Slam Dunk
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-19
Updated: 2012-06-19
Packaged: 2017-11-08 02:15:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/438025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jucee/pseuds/jucee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rukawa has a huge TV, and Sakuragi takes advantage of it (or so he thinks).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rhythm

Rukawa is awoken on a Sunday morning by a loud banging noise, which he identifies half a minute later as somebody knocking on his door. He turns his head to glance at the clock beside his bed, and when he sees that it’s 9:26 he knows that the somebody knocking on his door is Sakuragi.

He considers pulling his pillow over his head and going back to sleep, but then he remembers that the last time he tried to ignore Sakuragi, his next-door neighbour called the police to report that a thug was trying to break down Rukawa’s door, probably to extort money and/or sell his organs. It was sort of amusing to watch Sakuragi almost get dragged away by the smaller and rather timid police, but much less so when Sakuragi refused to acknowledge his existence for two whole weeks after the incident. This last part is what finally compels Rukawa to roll out of bed and shuffle to the door, which he pushes open without warning, and only Sakuragi’s quick reflexes prevent him from getting a faceful of Rukawa’s door.

“You suck,” Sakuragi says in greeting, and pushes past Rukawa into the apartment, toeing his shoes off a little clumsily thanks to the large box in his arms. Unsurprisingly, he heads straight for Rukawa’s plasma TV. “What the fuck, man,” he grumbles when he sees the PS2 sitting beneath it, and sets the box down on the floor in order to lovingly wipe off the layer of dust on the console with his own t-shirt.

When there are grey streaks all over the front of his formerly white shirt, Sakuragi sits back and glares at Rukawa. “You haven’t touched it since the last time I came over, have you?” he accuses. He pops the lid open and carefully removes the Katamari Damacy disc sitting inside, holding it up like evidence of a crime. “See?”

“Whatever,” Rukawa mumbles, and shuffles over to the sofa. Through half-lidded eyes, he watches Sakuragi’s hands as they gently, almost reverently, take out a round object and various paraphernalia from the box that Sakuragi brought with him, and it belatedly occurs to Rukawa to ask, “New game?”

“Yeah,” Sakuragi says, sounding almost breathless with excitement, which does all sorts of interesting things to Rukawa’s stomach, or perhaps a region slightly lower. He pulls things out and plugs things in and puts a new disc into the PS2, then turns to Rukawa and says, “Taiko no Tatsujin! This is _so cool_ , I bet even you’ll like it.”

“Hn,” Rukawa says, which to him means _that’ll happen when I lose interest in basketball and start wearing fishnet pantyhose for fun_ , and which he knows Sakuragi will take as agreement.

“Totally,” Sakuragi says, and then proceeds to ignore Rukawa while he bangs away at the mini taiko drum in front of him in time with the coloured dots flashing across the tv screen for the next two hours and fifteen minutes.

During which Rukawa does fifty push-ups, takes a very long shower, brushes his teeth, drinks three cups of tea, throws some clothes into the washing machine, dozes on the sofa, throws the wet clothes into the dryer, and makes five packets of instant ramen, which he divides into two bowls. When Sakuragi finally glances up from the TV with a large and blissful smile on his face, Rukawa just shoves a bowl at him, the larger one, and they slurp at their noodles in companionable silence.

“Hey,” Sakuragi suddenly says, with the last bite of food still in his mouth, “You don’t actually play your PS2, do you?” The tone of his voice tells Rukawa that this is the first time this has occurred to him.

“Not really,” Rukawa replies, getting up from the sofa. He takes their empty bowls to the sink and begins to wash up, and he waits for Sakuragi’s train of thought to reach a dead end.

“So... why do you have one then?” Sakuragi demands a moment later. Then he laughs loudly, which is probably the only way he knows how. “You should just give it to me!”

“But your TV is tiny,” Rukawa says to the dishes. “You said so yourself. Several hundred times.”

“Yeah, I s’pose,” Sakuragi mumbles, and casts a wistful look at Rukawa’s huge television. “Whatever, I’ll just come over all the time and play it here,” he declares as he turns the console back on.

“You already do,” Rukawa says, but Sakuragi doesn’t hear him over the loud music and enthusiastic drum-banging. He dries the last of the dishes, then returns to the sofa, where he watches Sakuragi’s back until he falls asleep with a faint smile on his lips.


End file.
